


Post-Apocalyptic Ethics 101

by Redrikki



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Betrayal, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Dysfunctional Family, Episode Tag, Gen, Guilt, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of dribbles and short stories.</p><p>1) Hungry Heart - It's been so long, Bellamy can't remember what full feels like.<br/>2) Legendary - The Wanheda was the stuff of legends. Tag to 3.01<br/>3) History, Repeating - Bellamy should know better the second time around.  Tag to 3.03<br/>4) Fresh Air - Jasper struggles to catch his breath.<br/>5) Constant Gardener - Marcus and the Last Tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hungry Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [fan_flashworks](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com) challenge #144 memory.

The morning after the Unity Day dance where Bellamy got his family killed, he saved half his rations out of sheer force of habit. Wait, watch, scoop, hide. He’d had plenty of practice at it, every meal, every day since his sister was born. Sixteen years of sharing. Sixteen years of being hungry and thirsty and a little bit lightheaded so Octavia could eat. Standing in their empty apartment, he hurled her share of his breakfast against the wall. It had been so long, Bellamy couldn’t even remember what being full felt like. He didn’t deserve to find out now.


	2. Legendary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wanheda was the stuff of legends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [fan_flashworks](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com) challenge #144 memory.

The Grounders talked about the Wanheda in hushed, awed tones as their gazes drifted past Clarke. Wanheda fell from the sky. She burned armies before her and slew a mountain. She was fearless, relentless, remorseless. No wonder they didn’t see Clarke, a girl with haunted eyes who woke up screaming from nightmares of melting children and corpses with her friends’ faces. Clarke, the real Clarke, was too damaged to be the stuff of legends. She was shrinking as the Wanheda grew. How long until people forgot she’d ever been a girl? How long until all there was was the killer?


	3. History, Repeating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy won't be so trusting the next time around. Tag to 3.03

_Belomi kom Skaikru_ has eyes as warm and trusting as a cow that doesn’t know it’s food. The people he’d entrusted to her had looked at her that way just before she fed them to the Mountain Men. It’s good none of them are here. Bellamy is a man of his word, but _Echo kom Azgeda_ isn’t a woman of hers. Best no one reminds him of that as she leads him to ruin and death. Or maybe not. Skaikru have a knack for turning betrayal into triumph. Either way, he’ll never look at her with warmth and trust again.


	4. Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jasper struggles to catch his breath.

Jasper’s first breath on earth smelled like freedom, dirt and growing things. The air moved like magic without help from pumps and fans, but it wasn’t quiet. It whispered through the leaves and shrieked in his ears as he swung across the river. The spear drove Jasper’s breath from his lungs and he couldn’t catch it again in the rush of pain and Grounders and guns and fire and fear and fear and fear.

Jasper woke up in Mount Weather to the familiar hum and whir of an HVAC system. His first breath tasted of metal, cleaning products and _safety._


	5. Constant Gardner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and the Last Tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [ fan_flashworks](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com) challenge #22 "Borrowed Title."

Nearly a year after he planted it, Marcus returned to the Last Tree. As a boy he had been its Tender, feeding it his people’s hopes and dreams along with their water rations. He had thought that on earth, free from its confining pot and the threat of pruning sheers, it could flourish and grow for the first time in a hundred years, but he had planted it in the wrong place. The older, looming trees had blocked out the sunlight and now its leaves were withered and brown. Marcus bowed his head and wept over this latest senseless death.


End file.
